


A Time Long Since Gone

by FuryTigresse



Series: After The Nightmare [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anger, Books, Dreams, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Love, Past Relationship(s), Poetry, Post Devil May Cry 5, Post-Game, Reading, Regret, Reminiscing, Spoilers, Terrible Dad Vergil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 11:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18334166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryTigresse/pseuds/FuryTigresse
Summary: [Spoilers for Devil May Cry 5] Dante and Vergil escape from the Underworld after months. They arrive at Nero and Kyrie's place, but Nero won't just accept Vergil being his father so easily. Before he can even start thinking about forgiveness, he's going to need some explanations about his origins.(Or, in which Vergil reminisces about the past while he tells Nero about it.])





	A Time Long Since Gone

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Devil May Cry fanfic! 
> 
> Full disclaimer: the only Devil May Cry games I've played are DmC and Devil May Cry 5. I've watched tiny bits of playthroughs of the rest of the series, read a lot about the characters and the universe, but if there are discrepancies that nag you, you can tell me and I'll keep those in mind. Also, English is not my first language. Please let me know if you see weird sentences or typos bother you, I'll make sure to fix those.
> 
> The story switches back and forth between present time and the past. The time switches are marked by "***". It should be obvious enough once you start reading, but I'm pointing it out just in case :)
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it!

"Nero!"

The Devil Hunter sighed as he rolled out from underneath the van. He took a look at the time real quick, wondering if it was dinner time already. Uh, apparently not, it was only 3 in the afternoon. He sat, careful not to hit his head against anything.

"What is it, Kyrie?"  
"They're back!"  
"Who's back?"  
"Your father and your uncle!"

It took Nero several seconds to process the information. And then his eyes fell on the book. The book that had never left V's side, and that now never left Nero's. He wasn't really a fan of poetry, but it felt wrong to leave the book on its own on a bookshelf or something, and leaving it in the middle of the orphanage was just a recipe for disaster. Whereas carrying it with him... well, maybe he was just a little hopeful that it would make him closer to the family he had never had. To the family he had only learned about several months ago. To the family who had ripped off his arm the first time they had met. Nero's gaze hardened at that memory, and he glanced aside to the Devil Breaker Nico had gotten him to equip. It was similar to the Pasta Breaker, but with tools for the car instead of utensils. Entirely useless in combat. Not that there had been much action since then. Nero had killed just about every demon who had gotten stranded in the human world, and with the portal closed no new one had shown up.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and took the Devil Breaker off, his own arm reappearing, fleshy and human. He put the mechanical arm aside and clenched his fists as he got up. All four of them, really, although two of them quickly disappeared. All right.

Time for a family reunion.

Nero stepped out of the garage with the book in hand, frowning when he saw that Dante was nowhere to be seen - probably on the hunt for pizza - but that Vergil was standing in front of Kyrie, expression unreadable as she welcomed him. Nero felt a surge of protectiveness as he power-walked to her and took her hand.

"Let's go inside," he grumbled, walking to the front door, pulling Kyrie behind him. He ignored Vergil entirely, feeling childish for doing so, but his right arm tingled. The man who had hurt him, in the place where he had hurt him; something about it made him bitter. As much as he had hoped for a family before, now that he had one he didn't know what to do with it. And he didn't know how to greet the ice-eyed bastard who was his father. Did he really want to have anything to do with that guy? With a man who had thrown away his humanity to become entirely a demon? With a man whose first act in his life had been to tear off his arm?

"Nero-" Kyrie started.  
"Not now. Sorry. Please don't get close to him."

 _You have a father! Just go and greet him at least, welcome him home or something!_ He ignored the voice of reason, the voice of potential forgiveness. The other one was too strong. Although Nero was three quarters human, his inner demon still hissed and growled and begged him not to forget. _He doesn't act like a father, never did. He's not your father until he acts like one_ , it said, and it reminded him of the pain when Vergil had hurt him. He wouldn't forgive him so easily, if ever. And it wasn't just about himself. It was about the people of Red Grave City. It was about every person who had lost their life to this mad man's search for power.

In the kitchen, Dante was busy wolfing down some leftovers, and both Nero and Kyrie stopped when they saw him. Several empty food containers were on the counter, and Dante was going through another one.

"Uh, Dante? You _do_ know that was three days' worth of food for us and the orphans, right?" Nero sighed.  
"Gimme a break! I haven't eaten anything in _months_!"  
"Haven't showered in months as well, obviously."  
"Hey, that's uncalled for! I had to keep an eye on your old man, make sure he wouldn't run away _again_. And he stinks too, for the record, _he_ hasn't showered in like, twenty years."  
"Run away again?" He ignored the bit about not showering, for now. "Hey, what do you mean? And how did you guys even get out of there in the first place?"

Dante smirked as he finished eating, putting the dirty dishes in a pile near the sink. Nero's death glare didn't phase him. No worries, he didn't plan on letting Kyrie do those, but he was indeed in need of a shower first.

"No story in there that's mine to tell. Ask Vergil."  
"What?!"  
"Ask me _what_ , Dante?"

The cold, sharp voice echoed in the kitchen, and Nero's jaw got tight, his own gaze hardening. Vergil. Right behind him. And behind Kyrie. If that asshole even _tried_ to hurt her-

"You'll have to ask your son yourself. I'm outta here. You're right, Nero- I need a shower just about as much as I need pizza."

And Dante left on those words, whistling to himself, cocky and confident as he always was. Nero refrained from rolling his eyes. He still hadn't turned around. He didn't want to see Vergil. He had a hunch that his... that his _father_ was no less stubborn than he was, and he was afraid that turning around and seeing this emotionless face would result in more property damage than they could financially handle. But then, Kyrie gently let go of his hand with a little smile, and pressed a sweet kiss on his cheek, which softened his gaze and lightened his mood, just a bit.

"I'll go back to the kids."

She then left too, and Nero sighed. Damn it. Everyone wanted him to have a chat with Vergil, uh. What if Nero didn't want that? Nobody really cared, apparently. But no, he was lying to himself. He _did_ want to have a chat with his father. If only to let him know everything that was on his mind. But this- it was real. Damn it! He had imagined how it could go a thousand times since Vergil and Dante had left for the Underworld, and so far none of it happened like he had thought it might.

He took a deep breath and relaxed his entire body. He had almost crushed the book with how angry he had been. It didn't deserve such cruel treatment. It had done nothing to him. With that decision made, he turned slowly, keeping his face mostly neutral. There were so many things he wanted to say; yet, at the same time, he didn't want to say them. Wasn't a father supposed to just know, without a son needing to say anything? No, that was for normal people with normal families. Nero was pretty sure it didn't apply to fathers who ripped off their son's arm the first time they encountered them. Nor to the fathers who needed a sword in the gut to acknowledge their son's existence.

"Whatever it is, say it. I am in no mood to wait here for an hour until you stop acting like a child, Nero," Vergil suddenly said, voice cold and indifferent, with a touch of annoyance.

Nero growled and felt something snap inside him. He almost Devil Triggered right there and then, but Kyrie would have been disappointed if the kitchen was a mess when she came back. He contained himself. Barely.

"Well I'm in no mood to wait years for you to stop being an asshole and start acting like a father!"

They bristled as they stared each other down, each immune to the other's death glare. Nero was breathing hard. His spectral arms would be so easy to summon. So easy to use for smacking Vergil in the face. He _wanted_ a father. So, so bad. To have a family, to have people around him, to have- heck, something normal people had! But this twisted man? This terrible, _terrible_ person who had destroyed an entire city for more power, and just ripped off his arm to save himself? He could have asked! Could have told him he needed the Yamato, could have said- anything! Anything but what he had done. The anger fueled his next words as he growled them.

"I'm wondering what my mother even saw in you. But maybe she indeed saw nothing and you just raped her."

Vergil's icy blue eyes, which had only expressed cold indifference before, suddenly filled with indignation and rage, his emotionless mask shattering and turning into something twisted, more like despair and pain than Nero could have imagined Vergil capable of feeling. The Yamato left its sheath with a sinister hiss, and Nero's demonic arms appeared, on guard, ready to parry an attack.

"I never would have-" Vergil started, voice somehow still controlled despite the tightness in it, but Nero interrupted him before he could continue.  
"You cut off your own son's arm just to get more power, you fucking asshole! How do you expect me to believe that you-!"  
"You're right."

The words had been spoken softly, so softly that Nero had barely heard them. The Yamato was back in its sheath. All fight had left Vergil, and all emotion as well. Nothing could be read on his face. His eyes didn't let anything go through either. But his voice, low and rasp, sounded deeply hurt. Which he had _no right_ to be! _He_ had been the one who had hurt Nero, not the opposite! But before he could protest, Vergil inhaled a sharp breath and walked to a nearby chair, sitting there, the Yamato in front of him like he had sat while waiting for Dante at the top of the Qliphoth.

"What, not gonna argue about this?" Nero grumbled when he saw that Vergil had apparently no intention to explain himself.

Vergil only kept quiet. If anything, the silence only fueled his son's anger even more. The demonic arms launched and grabbed Vergil by the shoulders in order to shake the living daylights out of him. Or at least they tried to. They got batted away effortlessly by blue spectral swords, and Vergil hadn't even moved.

"Stop these childish antics, Nero," Vergil growled, his voice cold. "I need not justify my actions."  
"You owe me explanations!"  
"And if you want them, you should stop acting like that stupid brother of mine and calm yourself."  
"I'm not you. I have emotions! I'm not a cold son of a bitch."  
"Nero."

Vergil's thumb slightly pushed the Yamato out of his sheath, his traits tense and angry now. It was nowhere near the reaction from earlier, but Nero could tell he had more trouble keeping his cool.

"Call me that _one more time_..."  
"What, you're feeling actually insulted?"  
"I will not let you insult Mother in such a way."

Nero breathed deeply at the explanation. Okay. Fine. His grandmother very probably didn't deserve being called a bitch. He calmed down just a touch, allowed his spectral arms to disappear, and Vergil's thumb let go of the Yamato, sheathing it fully again.

"Protective much," the young Devil Hunter hissed. "Too bad this meant nothing to you when-"  
"If you are trying to imply that my actions should have been directed by the fact that you are my son, stop. I didn't know you were, back then. All I could hear was the Yamato calling out to me."  
"So you just decided that ripping off a stranger's arm was-!"  
"I will not bother explaining anything if you keep trying to start something. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're Dante's offspring, seeing how you're as hot-headed as he is."

Nero bit back the 'I almost wish I were instead of yours' snarl, and instead just grunted and sat in front of Vergil, slamming the book down on the table in front of him, arms crossed on his chest with only a slight movement of the head to indicate that he was listening. His father just stared at the Yamato's hilt, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I had just turned eighteen when I went to Fortuna, looking for clues that would lead me to my father's power," Vergil started, voice low, his mind drifting away to memories of a time long since gone.

***

_Several years ago_

It was a cold stormy day when Vergil entered the library, the Yamato in hand in the concealed form of a simple silvery cane. He was annoyed and completely drenched. At least his coat had protected most of his body, but his hairstyle was ruined. He still slicked his hair back, trying to get it into its usual style.

"Hello. May I help you in any way?"

Vergil turned suddenly, only now noticing the young woman behind the counter. She was around his age, maybe a tiny bit older, but not by much. Entirely human. Still, he was apparently _really_ out of it to not have felt her presence before. It was that stupid rain, distracting him. And it was unreasonably cold as well, which didn't help anything. Fine, and maybe the fact that he hadn't really slept in three days. Weird dreams plagued him the moment he tried to sleep. Not the bad, scary kind, obviously. Vergil couldn't care less about those, they wouldn't keep him up at night. But in his dreams he could see a smile that illuminated the darkest corners of his mind, and hear a beautiful laughter filled with joy. For some reason his dream self cared about those. But then the laughter turned to desperate cries, pleading, and ended in a scream of pure agony, and Vergil would wake up with a start, sweating and breathing hard. And he couldn't forget. Whenever he closed his eyes again, the dream came back. The only solution had been to not sleep. So he spent his nights practicing wielding the Yamato, and now there he was, senses so numb that he had failed to notice the woman before she had spoken.

"No need," he replied coldly as he headed for the rows filled with knowledge. "I will look around."  
"Oh... okay. Please let me know if you need anything."

The librarian went back to whatever she had been doing, and Vergil started looking for books about the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda. He needed his power for himself. The power of a demon. The power of a true devil. Power, just pure power. Then he could be as strong as Sparda. Then he could find his brother Dante, the one everyone had always preferred. The one his mother had chosen to save, rather than himself.

A soft giggle pulled him out of his thoughts. He froze, a book in his hand, as he just kept quiet and listened. The librarian was laughing, trying not to be too loud about it. She was holding a book that seemingly amused her. Enough that she would laugh. Enough that the laugh chilled Vergil to the bones.

It was the same laughter he kept hearing in his dreams.

"Tsk." He put the book he had been holding down on a nearby cart, and chose another one. He had to focus. He wouldn't lose everything again. And there were two ways to go about it: gaining more power to protect what was important to him, and having no attachment. His humanity was a weakness. Emotions were a weakness. Relationships were a weakness.

Yet, as Vergil settled with a book that seemed to contain clues towards his father's power, he kept hearing the sweet laughter in his mind.

***

"The librarian... was that my mother?" Nero asked quietly, elbows on the table, his forehead resting on his hands.  
"She was."  
"You heard her in your dreams before meeting her."  
"That is correct."

Nero sighed. His father was not a man of many words. At least not spoken ones. He kept quiet for a few seconds, then lowered his arms to look at Vergil.

"What was her name?"

***

"I'm sorry to bother you, but we're closing in ten minutes."

Vergil closed the heavy volume he had been reading, sighing. He wouldn't have the time to finish it that day. And he couldn't borrow the book. He didn't live in Fortuna, didn't have a fixed address. Didn't have a place he could call home. The place where he stayed was more like a hideout, which was a better way to say that he was pretty much camping. He didn't trust hotels, and didn't want to settle down for long so he didn't buy a house. That was fine, except for such situations. He looked at the young librarian, icy blue eyes locking on to her name tag. Anna. Her name was Anna.

"Then I shall take my leave."

Anna took the book from where he had left it, then turned towards him, a smile on her lips. The same one he had seen in his dreams.

"Would you like me to keep the book behind the counter for you? This way you can come back tomorrow and not have to find it again amongst the others. And you wouldn't risk it getting borrowed by someone else before you come back?"

That was... thoughtful of her. And surprisingly kind. She had no reason to help him that way. Still, Vergil got his coat back on, now dry, and grabbed the Yamato.

"I would appreciate that. Thank you," he added after a short hesitation.

He gave _Anna_ his first name and then headed out, troubled. Why did this woman appear in his dreams? He had only met her that day, yet he had been plagued by visions of her for a while now. What did it mean? He pondered about it until he reached his little hideout, settling in once he reached it. It was concealed with magic, just like the Yamato was hidden as a cane when he was in town, so that nobody would notice it. Vergil had very few belongings, but those he had were still his, and he didn't want anyone else taking what was his. Just like he had been robbed of his happy life, of his family, of everything he knew.

He hadn't been able to protect anyone or anything back then. His heart was torn in two as his inner devil whispered that he had been left behind, that nobody cared about him, that he shouldn't trust _anyone_ , while his human side protested, saying that there must have been a reason, that there was no way his mother would have voluntarily abandoned him. Once again, the duality of man and demon caused him to feel troubled. _He hadn't been strong enough._ He had been left behind. _With more power, he could protect._ With more power, he could find Dante and beat the crap out of him, it was all his fault. _But Dante was the only family he had left_. Except that Dante didn't _deserve_ to be called family! _He was still family._ A demon needs no family. _It's strength._ No, weakness. _He needed love._ He had _no_ need for emotions.

 _What about Anna?_ his human side whispered to him.

For once, his demonic self had nothing to retort. As much as relationships were human, and thus a weakness, even his inner demon stirred uneasily at the thought of never seeing that smile again.

***

"You were _camping_? You?" Nero snorted. He never would've thought that _Vergil_ would be the type to camp. What he knew about his father was, well, not glorious, and not a lot, but he had talked to V, and he knew how fancy and refined he was, or tried to be. A book of poems, a cane, and just this... this way of speaking.

Plus, Nero had seen V fight. And seen him do the _Singing in the rain_ dance to taunt demons while Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare were kicking ass. And also seen him play air-violin. And conduct an invisible orchestra. V had been Vergil's human self, so... definitely a part of Vergil, right? A lover of classical music, theater, and dance. Well-educated, and quoting William Blake. Nero just couldn't imagine the guy _camping_ , of all things.

But Vergil only sighed. He hadn't told Nero about the conflicting feelings, and he probably never would. The facts, the actions were all Nero needed to know. Although his human side was trying to remind him that he had done some embarrassing shit as V, trying to remind him that he had shown his vulnerable self, Vergil himself wouldn't do such a thing. His demonic pride's hold on his general self was pretty strong. And the conflicting feelings he had felt back then were none of Nero's business. His son didn't need to know that even the devil inside had refused to forget about Anna.

"Do you wish to hear the rest of it or not?" he ended up asking, gaze cold and hard, annoyed that his son was mocking him, much like Dante usually did.  
"I do, I do. Sheesh. Go ahead."

***

Vergil went to the library the next day, the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced than the day before. He hadn't slept more than a minute or two that night. This time the smile had been accompanied by a soft voice asking for his name, and the scream of agony had been a call for him. He had woken up even more exhausted than before he had tried getting some sleep, and he had tidied up his little hideout until morning.

But he still went, ignoring his exhaustion. The leather-bound tome he had been reading the day before was calling out to him.

And maybe the thought of seeing Anna had helped, too.

He went straight for the front desk upon setting foot in the building, and somehow part of his exhaustion faded when he saw the young librarian. Maybe it was the smile she offered him, maybe it was just the fact that she was there, alive, not dead or dying, not screaming in pain like in his dreams. Or maybe it was really just because she pulled out the book from behind the front desk and handed it to him, having recognized him. Not that he was hard to recognize. Not many people his age walked around with silvery white hair. He was quite easy to spot in a crowd.

"Welcome back. Here's the book, just like I said. Feel free to read to your heart's content."

Vergil disdainfully squashed the disappointment he felt at not hearing Anna say his name. He didn't _need_ such emotions. Instead of dwelling too much on these thoughts, he took the book with a nod and soft "thank you", and went to sit at a table to continue reading.

Concentrating was incredibly difficult despite the quiet, peaceful ambiance of the library. Anna was apparently working alone most of the time, and she busied herself with placing returned books back on the correct shelves, mostly silent and discreet like her job required her to be. Her presence wasn't intrusive at all, yet Vergil found himself glancing in her direction every now and then. He thought he was pretty subtle about it, at least until he saw Anna smiling and trying not to laugh as she was reading a book she had been about to place back. Vergil's breath caught in his throat for some reason, and he only noticed he had been staring when the young woman turned to look at him. He looked back at his own book immediately, but it was too late. Anna had seen him staring at her and she made her way towards him.

"Is there anything you needed, sir?"

Vergil was about to say no, but his eyes landed on the librarian's sweet expression and he forgot what he had been about to say. That was ridiculous. He was acting like a fool, his humanity was mocking him, and he wasn't sure why he was so strange at the moment.

"Have you read this book before?" he asked after a few seconds of hesitation, not knowing what else to say while also being genuinely curious.  
"I've read most of the books in the library, including the one you're holding. Doesn't mean I remember every single thing they say, however" Anna said with a little chuckle and an amused glow in her eyes. "This library has always been run by my family, so I've pretty much grown up in it."

Usually, Vergil would have interrupted such unnecessary information, but this was actually of interest to him.

"I'm trying to gather information on the Legendary Dark Knight, Sparda," he informed her.  
"Oh! Then what you're reading will definitely be helpful. There are a few more as well on the topic. Would you like me to gather them for you?"  
"Please," Vergil said softly. He was incredibly tired, but at least he wouldn't need to search too much for those.

He tried focusing on his reading as Anna gathered the other books, but he was having a lot of trouble concentrating. When the young woman came back with a pile, Vergil glanced at it, mentally counted the books and tried to figure out how long it would take him to read all of those. In the end, he resigned himself to ask for her help once again.

"Have you read all of those?" Seeing her nod, Vergil felt a wave of relief. "What do they contain? It would take me weeks to read everything."

Not that he didn't like reading, he loved it, but he didn't want to waste such time if he could help it. Anna put the pile down on the table, then sat next to Vergil, touching the yellow pages he was holding. A smile floated on her lips.

"This one contains the historical facts of the war Sparda fought for humanity. It tells of the demons he fought and sealed, and of how he single-handedly-"  
"Does it mention his power?" Vergil cut her off, the lack of sleep making him impatient.  
"If I recall correctly," Anna said, not offended by the interruption, "this one doesn't, not really."

She took a smaller book from the pile. "This one mentions legends about his weapons. The most notable one was, as most know, the-"  
"- sword that shared his name, the Devil Sword Sparda."

Anna looked at him, an amused glow in her eyes. If she was insulted that he had interrupted her _again_ , she didn't show it. Vergil sighed.

"What can you tell me about the Sparda?"

***

Nero rolled his eyes so hard they hurt.

"Ooooookay. You were an asshole back then too. Seriously, I can't believe she endured your terrible personality. You probably smelled terrible too. You didn't have a shower in your camping spot, right?"

Vergil ignored that, choosing to focus on his memories instead. It was hard to go back and tell Nero about what had happened. As V had told Griffon, the past was a bitter place for him. Vergil usually chose not to dwell on it. But his human self, after merging back, had kept nagging him: he owed Nero. A lot. The least he could do was to tell him about his mother.

"When did you get William Blake's book?" Nero asked after a few seconds of silence. "Did my mother give it to you?"  
"An old man did, back when I was but a child."  
"Oh. All right. I thought-"  
"Don't you dare lose it."

Vergil's voice had been tighter. He obviously cared a lot about this book, not that Nero hadn't thought so, considering that it had never left V's side. He just wished his father cared as much about him as he cared about the old, yellowed pages. Whatever. He looked at the brown cover on the table, then at Vergil. He had imagined that perhaps his mother had made Vergil enjoy books, but it seemed like he had always loved reading, even before meeting her, considering that he had been given Blake's anthology when he was a boy.

"Yeah. Not gonna lose it," he sighed. "You gonna continue, or...?"

***

Being half-demon did not mean one could get away with no sleep for weeks. Maybe full demons could, but Vergil's humanity was holding him back and he cursed it for that. Fortunately, Anna was always there to help him out. She apparently never really spent a day away from the library. When she needed to work, she did, but the moment she had free time she sat by his side and read with him, helping him in his research, pointing out facts she thought might interest him. She told him everything she found that was about Sparda's power or weapons, everything that theorized as to why Sparda had become so strong. Sometimes she even analyzed the texts and shared her own theories with Vergil. And considering that Vergil's focus was weakening with every passing day without sleep, the half-demon was grateful for her help. He couldn't sleep, not with the dreams haunting him. Anna's help was priceless.

And then, a week after meeting Anna for the first time, Vergil actually fell asleep in the library, unable to stay awake any longer. He woke up much, much later, when a gentle hand shook him, making sure not to be too rough.

"Vergil?"

The half-demon slowly opened tired blue eyes, but then they snapped open as he felt the hand on his shoulder. He sat brutally, pushing himself away from the table he had been leaning against. The Yamato was in his hands half a second later, still hidden as cane but ready to be unsheathed and revealed if necessary. He only relaxed when he saw Anna's concerned expression.

"My apologies for waking you up. We're closing in five minutes."

Vergil looked at the time and shook when he saw that she was telling the truth. He had arrived at opening, looked at the time at around ten after reading for a while, and then- then, nothing. He had... slept. Without the dreams. Without waking up with a deep feeling of dread and despair settled in his heart. How was that possible? Was he finally free of those terrible dreams?

"I will take my leave then," he said softly, getting up. He was not a man who generally apologized, but he was still polite enough not to stay after closing time, and he did feel pretty bad about just sleeping in the library. He felt a little better, but those few hours hadn't been nearly enough to make up for the nights of unrest.

He was gathering his belongings when he suddenly noticed something. _Anna had said his name_.

He snuffed out the hope and joy that had bubbled inside him at that realization before they could blossom into anything else. Fine, Anna was a wonderful woman, with a very sweet personality and a gentle nature, and a love for books that reminded Vergil of a time long since gone, when he would read for pleasure, not just to get more power. A time that he would spend on his own, his full attention on poems, on texts filled with symbolism that he would spend even _more_ time analyzing, trying to understand the deeper meaning hidden behind the words.

Anna reminded him of better days. Bittersweet days, but better days nonetheless. He turned towards her once his signature blue coat was back on his shoulders.

"Have a good evening, Anna," he said simply.

He left after that, going back to his hideout. Once there, he looked through his belongings until he finally found it: a William Blake anthology he had been given as a child, when he had been but a boy, alone except for books. He had read it a hundred times, perhaps more, and loved every second of it. Yet, he hadn't touched it in years.

Vergil sat, and decided it was time to rectify the situation. He felt better, tired still, but not entirely exhausted. He could dedicate an hour or two to this wonderful book. It had been neglected for far too long.

He did exactly that, feeling oddly at peace after reading some of it. The poems forced his mind to relax, to open up in order to better understand them. They were not about power, not about weapons, not about Sparda. It felt good to think of something else. Sure, power was still what Vergil was truly after, but he could afford to relax, if only a little.

Eventually, he fell asleep with the book in hand, but he could feel that something was wrong. It wasn't the same, horrible dream, but it was also not the peaceful rest he had managed to get in the library.

The smile was not there. The laughter neither. But he could still hear Anna's voice. It was broken, crying, screaming, cursing him. Vergil could hear the fear and the sadness. The despair. He woke up just a few minutes later and barely contained a frustrated shout. He just wanted to sleep! Why could his mind not leave him _alone_?

Humanity. That was most probably the reason why he kept having these dreams. How was he supposed to obtain Sparda's power then, if his human self kept holding him back? There had to be a way. He'd have to find it. But for now... for now, he had to try getting some kind of sleep, or at least some rest.

The remaining hours of the night went by slowly. Vergil spent some of it reading, some of it trying to sleep, and the rest of it staring at nothing as his mind kept conjuring images of Anna's face, constantly reminding him of how beautiful she was. And it wasn't like she was the most gorgeous person he had ever seen. She had her flaws, physically, he knew she did, but his mind forgot about those, blinded by her light, by how bright her personality was, by how kind she was.

Still, why her? Why was his mind obsessing so much over her, even before they had met?

The entire night passed without Vergil finding an answer. When morning came, he went into town to eat something and have a cup of tea before he would go to the library again. He set foot in the restaurant where he usually had breakfast and blinked in surprise when he saw Anna there. She was with a man, and Vergil huffed in annoyance. He wasn't sure why he was annoyed, but he was. He still went about his routine and settled with his book, quiet as he ate and read. Once again, the night hadn't been great. He wasn't in the mood for... for anything, really. Not in the mood for talking, reading anything else than those poems that somehow calmed his mind, or listening to the conversation between Anna and the man. But his hearing was better than a human's, unfortunately, and he heard every word they said nonetheless.

"That man cannot continue to come to the library," the man's voice was saying, and Vergil could tell that this was about him. Luckily, they somehow hadn't noticed him. He wasn't visible from where they were, right now, but he had walked past their booth on the way to the table where he was at.  
"Anyone can come to the library. Vergil is looking for knowledge, that's what the library is for, and it's the librarian's duty - _my_ duty - to help him find what he's looking for," Anna protested, voice soft but still firm.  
"When you're working only, and only to find the books! You don't need to keep reading those outdated war texts at night or during your days off! _That_ is not your job."  
"Perhaps not, but it is still my _pleasure_."

Vergil blinked. He felt surprise, followed by pure, incredible _gratitude_. Anna was reading the books at night? To help him? Vergil knew Anna read those books during her days off, as she would then sit by his side at the library and read the musty pages with him, telling him of everything that seemed important about Sparda's power, but at night as well? That was impressive, even for Vergil, who was not easily impressed.

"Next time he shows up, I'm kicking him out," the man growled, and Vergil quirked an eyebrow, doubtful that a mere human would even be able to touch him.  
"You can't. He has the right to-"  
"I am _not_ letting him approach you again."

Oh. That man was either jealous or simply overprotective. But without power, he meant nothing to Vergil. Still, better not cause a scene, but that was an annoyance he could've definitely lived without. He'd need to find a new library to pursue his research, and he wouldn't have Anna's help this time. Considering the tone, that man was either a boyfriend or an older brother, and in whichever case Vergil felt hesitant to use force on him- if only because it might sadden Anna, which was an unbearable thought, for some reason. Vergil growled a little though when he caught himself hoping that this guy was just Anna's brother.

In any case, he had to go to the library. He'd finish his breakfast, wait for those two to leave, and then head there as well.

***

Nero wasn't sure what to think as Vergil paused, taking a short break. His father was obviously a man of few words, and telling such a tale seemed harder for him than fighting his own brother for months. Mostly, he could feel that Vergil wasn't telling him _everything_. There was no account for emotion in this story, no note of how Vergil felt back then. Maybe he didn't remember, his mind twisted by his time as Mundus' slave, but Nero highly doubted that. And he was right, because indeed Vergil had skipped all the conflicting emotions he had felt at that time, opting to only mention the terrible dreams involving Anna, without describing them. The internal turmoil they had caused? That was only his to know.

"I mean," Nero started, voice rough, "I can understand why that guy wanted you out. You're not exactly a good person."

Understatement of the century if there was one, considering that Vergil's actions within just a few weeks - as himself, as Urizen, and as V, to a certain extent - had caused more harm than Nero would probably cause in his entire life. And it wasn't like he had a clean state before that.

"Anyway, who was the guy?" Nero suddenly asked after a minute of silence they had both used to contemplate Vergil's actions.  
"He was Anna's older brother, Kaiden."  
"So I have another uncle."  
"No. He was dead before your birth."

***

"Hey, you. Get out."

Vergil sighed, annoyed. He knew that had been coming. Somehow the other man hadn't seen him enter the library, but now that he had spotted him, he wanted him out. And Vergil had just taken his coat off, too. What a pitiful person, thinking he could even do something to Vergil, his death glare not impressing the half-demon in the slightest.

"And what, pray tell, is the reason for such animosity towards me? I was never disallowed to come here before," he asked, polite but cold, barely containing his demonic aura to not give that man yet another reason to hate him.  
"My sister is tiring herself out for your bullshit. She's not your personal slave! If you need information, find it yourself."

Vergil quirked an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. His personal slave? He had never thought of her that way. He appreciated her help, greatly even. He was fairly certain she was doing this of her own free will.

"..."

Pointless to argue. The man didn't look like he would budge. Vergil closed his book with a pointed sigh.

"Fool. You are incorrect, but arguing with you would be a waste of brain cells," he growled in a low voice, almost too low for the other man to hear.

He got up and shoved the book he had been reading into the man's chest. Vergil then grabbed his coat and the Yamato, noticing only then that Anna was approaching them, eyes sad. She had obviously tried arguing, unlike Vergil, and it hadn't worked. That was obvious too.

"Kaiden?" she said, and her brother immediately looked at her. Okay, that man was totally whipped when it came to his sister. Another obvious fact. "Please leave us. I'll recommend a few other places where he'll be able to get information, and then I'll escort him out."

The man seemed dubious, but he still left the library, grumbling the entire way. He would no doubt wait outside, make sure Vergil was indeed leaving after that. But that wasn't Vergil's main concern at the moment. Anna wanted to talk to him. One on one.

"Vergil..."

Her voice was soft. Sad. But he could heard determination beneath the tone. She hadn't given up helping him, for some reason.

"Tonight, after sunset, come to this address. I'll be waiting."

She handed him a piece of paper. There was indeed an address on it. Vergil reached for it, fingers brushing against Anna's as he took the paper. His heart somehow skipped a beat at that, and he brutally repressed everything that was trying to happen in his mind.

"I'll be there."

He'd be there indeed. He had a hunch that it would be worth it. A hunch that this was no trap, that this was nothing to be wary of. He couldn't claim to know Anna all that well, but the little he knew of her was enough that he knew he could trust her.

Vergil leaned forward a little, his mouth closer to her ear. Anna smelled wonderful, like a beautiful spring day, and he forced himself not to notice that too much. On the contrary, _he_ probably didn't smell too good, with his hideout not having a shower and his only means of cleaning himself and his clothes being a bit of soap and the nearby river, so he wouldn't linger. "I will see you tonight, Anna," he murmured in her ear before he headed out, not giving her any time to actually escort him out.

As he had thought, Kaiden was waiting for him outside the library, right next to the door, his gaze hard. He was obviously trying to be intimidating. It might have worked on a normal human. But Vergil was definitely not a normal human. And a normal human's glare was nowhere near enough to even bother him.

"Begone," Kaiden hissed. "And never come back. You are not welcome in Fortuna, never have been."

No arguing. Vergil simply rolled his eyes and walked away. Too much attention was never a good thing for him. Demons had a tendency to spot him easily the moment rumors started going around about his presence. They knew who he was. He did have the same white hair as his father, and the same icy blue eyes, and the demonic aura he exuded was certainly not a mere human's. So, he'd keep low and avoid confrontation. It was absolutely not because killing Anna's brother would probably make her sad.

He waited the day away in his little hideout. When night fell, he put on a cloak with a hood that would hide not only his striking blue coat, but also his facial features, as well as help him blend in with the rest of Fortuna's population. Just about everyone in this town wore a hood, so it wouldn't be weird for him to do so too. Properly dressed, he headed to the address Anna had given him and knocked on the door. It was a small house, almost medieval-looking like everything else in Fortuna, with nothing particular about it on the outside. Vergil still focused, holding the Yamato in one hand and William Blake's book in the other. He wasn't sure why he brought that. But he did, and it was too late to go back since the door in front of him was opening.

"Vergil! Come in, come in."

Anna was wearing a beautiful dress, striking by its simplicity. It wasn't particularly elegant or anything, but it did look very comfortable. It wasn't the same she had been wearing earlier. Vergil was grateful for that as he stepped in. This felt informal. It was a nice feeling. He pushed his hood down and saw Anna beaming at him, a pile of books in her arms.

"I borrowed them! My brother forbid you to come to the library, but we can still read here."  
"Do you not live with your family?" Vergil couldn't help but ask, surprised.  
"My parents have been dead for a while now. It's just Kaiden and me, but he lives further away in the city for his job. I'm on my own here. Nobody will bother us."

Vergil nodded, taking his coat off. It would feel similar to the library then, except that Anna had no duty to attend to. Still...

"Why do you help me?"  
"Because I want to."

Simple enough. There was nothing that indicated a potential hidden purpose. Anna was really doing it because she felt like it. Vergil nodded slowly, placing the Yamato next to his coat and Blake's anthology on the kitchen table. Anna's eyes sparkled when her eyes landed on the book.

"William Blake! I love his work."

Her hand grazed the cover, respectful, and her eyes met Vergil's.

"Without Contraries is no progression," she started.  
"Attraction and Repulsion-"  
"Reason and Energy-"  
"Love and Hate-"  
"Are necessary to Human existence," Anna concluded with a very satisfied smile. "Glad to see that the book isn't just for show."

Vergil scoffed. "That was an easy, well-known one."  
"You'd be surprised at how many people do not even know about Blake," Anna retorted.  
"Tsk. 'A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees'. They are fools, all of them.."

Anna chuckled, getting a bit closer to him. She used her thumbs to gently lift the corners of Vergil's mouth.

"And 'he whose face gives no light, shall never become a star'. Lighten up a little, Vergil."

He rolled his eyes at her antics, but didn't push her away. Instead, he slowly raised his hands to take hers, and then lowered them just as gently, careful not to hurt her.

"Let's read a little," he decided. He didn't know what else to tell her, and they didn't have all night. Anna needed to sleep eventually. He did too, but for now that mattered little.

They went to the living room to read, Vergil choosing an armchair while Anna went for the couch. They read in silence for a while, although Vergil had trouble focusing fully. Anna was _right there_ and, for some reason, that fact, combined with the knowledge that she had no other duty to attend to, made him stir uneasily. They were alone in her house. Just reading. Anna liked William Blake's work... maybe they could discuss it eventually.

"Vergil?"

He noticed only then that he had been staring at nothing for a while. At least this time he hadn't been staring at her. He signed and slicked his hair back, closing his eyes.

"Sleep is not a luxury I have been able to afford lately. Focusing is not usually a problem."

Anna closed the book she had been reading and put it aside, showing that she was fully ready to listen to him. "Would you like to talk about it?"  
"Dreams. Restless ones." He wasn't sure why he was telling her that, admitting weakness, showing vulnerability. In any case he couldn't tell her that he had been dreaming about her. Especially not that he had been dreaming about her even before they had first met. "The only way to avoid them is to not sleep."

He reopened his eyes. It _really_ wasn't like him to show such weakness. And to a human woman! He was probably even more tired than he thought he was. And yet Anna showed no amusement, only empathy. She didn't think he was crazy, which was a good thing.

"Yesterday, you were sleeping peacefully at the library," she noted simply, looking a little thoughtful. "But not before that?"  
"And not after."

Why was he telling her that?

"That's terrible. Would you like to tell me about your dreams? Don't, if that's uncomfortable for you. But I do wish to help in any way I can."

Vergil kept quiet for a minute. He wouldn't tell her about his dreams. But perhaps she could help in other ways. He closed the book he had been reading, put it aside, and got up. Blake's book was in his hand when he came back and he handed it to her.

"I believe texts about Sparda are too heavy for my current state of mind. Care for some poetry instead?"  
"It would be my pleasure. I would like your insight on some of Blake's works."

Anna took the book, then patted the couch, inviting Vergil to sit by her side. He only hesitated for a second before he sat, keeping a reasonable distance between them. It would be easier to share the book like this. Although, it was also unfortunately easier to take in Anna's scent when he was so close to her. He had noticed it earlier at the library despite trying not to, but not before that, considering all the scents that were in the air. But here, in her house, with her so close to him... he couldn't help but bask in it.

"Mind if we start with this one? I'd love to know your thoughts on it."

The Smile, uh. Not Vergil's favorite, but he knew it. It wasn't one he had read a lot, however, so going through it again would help.

"There is a Smile of Love," Vergil started reading out loud, slowly, letting every word fill his mind as he said them.

By the time midnight rang, they had discussed three poems and six Proverbs of Hell, sharing their point of view with the other, taking their time to read the lines again and again together. They hadn't touched the books about Sparda at all after they had started reading Blake. It was Vergil who ended it when he noticed that Anna seemed a little more tired than usual.

"I will leave for the night and let you rest," he decided.  
"Okay."

She got up with him, giving him the book back after he had put his coat on and grabbed the Yamato.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" she inquired, and Vergil was fairly certain that was a hopeful tone he could hear in her voice.  
"Yes. Rest well, Anna."

He left after that, tired but feeling incredibly at peace. The day after, he came back, and the next and the other, and the other one after that. He fought the dreams to rest a bit, but woke up every time feeling more tired than before he had fallen asleep. The dreams were getting worse every time. More intense. More realistic. More and more difficult to ignore or to forget when came the morning. They had already been hard on him, and now...

The only good thing in his life that helped him through the exhaustion was that he was seeing Anna every night. They hadn't gotten any further in the books about Sparda, but they had progressed a great deal in their analyses of Blake's works. Anna had a very different insight from Vergil's, one that was colored by the knowledge of an entire library, one that showed a very open mind, one that used references from the works of Blake's contemporaries to reinforce her point, comparing what they did and how they viewed the world in entirely different ways. It was refreshing to have someone to discuss literature with, and Vergil listened with rapt attention to every word Anna said. His exhaustion was mostly forgotten when she spoke, and nothing else then mattered to him.

Anna seemed equally as interested when Vergil would share his insights, which was a relief. He didn't have as much knowledge of various poets and philosophers, but he knew plenty about theology and he liked to think that he had a valid point as well. Fortunately, Anna indeed seemed to think so too, and he caught her looking at him instead of at the book a few times. She smiled sweetly every time, admitting that his remarks and analyses fascinated her. Vergil wasn't quite certain of what he should do with the attention; as a child, Dante had always been the attention whore, and Vergil had preferred hiding away, surrounded by books. After what had happened, he had never received such attention again, and now that he was getting it, it made him slightly uneasy.

But not in a bad way. His inner demon kept grumbling that he was showing vulnerability, weakness. The human in him, however, delighted in those calm moments.

Eventually, he was invited to stay over for the night. It was late again, and he had been coming over every evening for about two weeks. He always looked forward to this quiet time and apparently Anna did too, but this? Staying over. She trusted him so much. Obviously she didn't know that he was more demon than man, and he had no plans to tell her, but still...

"I appreciate the offer, thank you," he found himself saying before he could really think too much about it.

A hot shower after so much time bathing in a river felt like heaven, and Vergil spent more time in it than he'd ever admit. After that, he was led to Anna's guest room. It was right next to hers, furnished nicely, with a small bed that still looked extremely comfortable. As they both prepared to sleep, Vergil couldn't help but focus on the rustling of Anna's blankets as she settled in her own bed, on the other side of the wall. Her breathing was a bit quick at first, but then it slowed to a regular rhythm and he knew then that she was asleep. He closed his eyes at that point, letting her breathing lull him to sleep.

And he woke up the next morning when he heard Anna get out of bed and prepare for the day. The night had come and gone, surprisingly eventless, with none of the dreams to keep him awake. He got up too and went to the kitchen, hearing Anna softly singing to herself. She wasn't all that surprised when he came in, but she did stop singing and instead smiled at him.

"Good morning, Vergil."

There was a cup of Earl Grey tea and a book waiting for him on the table. That was kind. He hadn't expected it.

"Good morning, Anna."  
"You look better than yesterday. I hope that means you slept well?"

He nodded wordlessly and sat where the tea was, taking a sip, icy blue eyes at half mast. "Thank you." For everything, really. A good place to sleep. A cup of tea in the morning. A book. A person who cared about him.

"If you'd like, you could stay with me. In this house, I mean. As long as you're staying in Fortuna. Especially if you slept better here than wherever you were before."

Maybe he should have refused. But he accepted, if only to rest more and finally be able to focus on the books that would lead him to Sparda's power. He still needed it, he hadn't forgotten his true goal.

After Anna left for the library, Vergil went to get the rest of his belongings, then spent some time reading about his father. He tried sleeping some more, but the dreams appeared almost immediately, more vivid than they ever were. Why? What was going on?

That night, they read together once more. Blake again, and they were starting to see things more similarly. They revisited some poems and proverbs, then went to bed. As the sun rose the next morning and pulled Vergil out of a dreamless sleep, the half-demon started figuring it out.

He slept well only in Anna's presence. As ridiculous as it was - and it _really_ was -, the only correlation between his dreamless nights was her presence. That first time, in the library, she had been working nearby. The night before, she had been one room away. This time too. And the dreams? When he slept on his own in his hideout. When he tried sleeping the day away while Anna was at work.

Foolish. Ridiculous. But it was the only thing that had changed.

His theory was proven right over the next few nights as he finally rested his body and mind. His routine changed after that. The morning saw him being greeted by a wonderful woman, a cup of tea and a book. Afterwards, when Anna was away at work, he cleaned the house and did other such domestic chores to repay her kindness for letting him stay. When he was done with those, he read those damn books they had pushed aside for a long time. There were clues in there, they would help him in his research, but so far there was nothing concrete.

It was something that frustrated him, but at the same time he was relieved. He couldn't go chase a new lead. He wasn't getting any closer to Sparda's power.

He didn't need to leave Anna's side.

And as evenings went by and they were spending more and more time talking and less and less time reading, Vergil found himself more and more relieved - while at the same time growing more annoyed - that his daytime readings didn't provide him with reasons to leave. Fortuna was a beautiful city. Anna's house was quiet and comfortable. Anna herself was... dared he say it? The best thing that had ever happened to him. They got closer with every little piece of personal information they shared. Figuratively, but also physically, until one evening Anna was sitting right next to Vergil, close enough that he could practically feel her warmth through their clothes.

He was thus a little distracted while Anna was reading, and he only noticed he was not fully listening when Anna stopped reading to look at him. The tip of her fingers touched his jaw and she gently pushed so that he would look at her.

"Vergil. You're distracted."

Yes he was, and even more so now that his icy gaze was meeting her beautiful, gentle, bright eyes, and he was noticing how close she was, and he was feeling her fingers touching him-

-and her lips on his own as she kissed him.

He would have been angry at her, except that he wanted it too. He kissed her back, hesitantly at first, but more firmly as his body sang that this was what he truly wanted. Was this infatuation? Love? Or just his humanity messing with him? Whatever the case, he pushed the thought aside, and let himself just enjoy the softness of Anna's lips.

When they broke the kiss, Vergil's icy blues were uncertain, hesitant of how things would change for them from now on. Anna's smile reassured him, and he breathed out a slow, shaky exhale when she snuggled up against him so they could keep reading. Her warmth was closer now, so close. So real. So human.

That night, he held Anna in his arms while they slept, and his rest had never been so peaceful.

Things did change after that, in the best of ways. While Vergil kept reading during the day, and while his research was starting to reward him with clues, he couldn't find any true reason to leave Anna's side. And while the evenings were still dedicated to Blake's works, it wasn't rare that they would stop talking and spend a few minutes kissing.

One evening, a week after they had started... this, whatever it could be called, they went further than just kissing.

It started with just a kiss after reading a sweeter poem. But then the kiss prolonged itself, and Vergil's arms found their way around Anna's waist while hers pulled him in closer, her hands in his white hair, messing his hairstyle but with none of them caring much about it. One of his hands had found its way underneath her dress before they knew it. Anna's gasp made Vergil freeze right there, his eyes opening to look into hers. She was surprised, not offended. He started breathing again. He didn't want to hurt her. Didn't want to force her to do anything she was uncomfortable with. Just like she had never pushed _him_ to do anything he was uncomfortable with.

Something burning hot was growing in him, fierce and requiring attention. Clothes were soon discarded as they somehow made their way to Anna's bed, kissing the entire time, feeling incomplete without the other being as close as physically possible. Skin brushed against skin. Anna's voice moaned gently in his ear as he made love to her. Pleasure surged through them, and finally they felt sated. Vergil pressed soft, feathery little kisses on Anna's warm skin, pulling out to rest by her side, holding her in his arms. A small smile floated on his lips as they both fell asleep. They had definitely followed Blake's philosophy.

Furious knocks on the front door woke them up the next morning. A voice could be heard through it. A voice filled with panic.

"Anna! Anna, wake up!"

The voice belonged to Kaiden, and Anna got up and slipped into a dress to go and open the door. Vergil was already on his feet, getting dressed. The Yamato in one hand and Blake's anthology in the other, he felt his heart freeze when he finally understood what his senses were screaming at him: there were demons in Fortuna. A lot of demons. Killing every human they could find.

But their true goal was to find him.

Him, a son of Sparda. He had been foolish! Why, _why_ did he stay? He had most of the information he needed. He should have left days ago! But he had stayed. And now this. Man and demon agreed.

He had to protect Anna.

"Kaiden, why are you here?" he heard Anna ask, oblivious to what his superior senses could plainly feel.  
"Demons! There are demons everywhere in Fortuna! I came here to protect-"

Kaiden's eyes landed on Vergil as the latter stepped out of the bedroom with messy hair that left little doubt as to what had happened the night before. The Yamato was ready to drink some demon blood, no longer concealed as a silvery cane. It glowed a fierce blue light, fueled by Vergil's demonic powers.

"YOU!" Kaiden shouted when he saw Vergil, furious. "IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

He had no time to say anything else: a blade appeared through Kaiden's chest as he was impaled from behind by a demon. Anna's scream of horror shook Vergil. The rest was only a blur.

An hour passed before Vergil finally stood alone on a mountain of dead demons. He had taken the fight to the street to protect Anna, who had watched from her house while he had let his inner devil take control. Now she knew what he was. Not human. Demon.

More would come after him. If he stayed - and he wasn't sure he even _could_ stay, not with the way Anna was staring at him with horror in her eyes now that she had witnessed everything - he would only put her in danger. He couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk losing her like that. Couldn't risk a repeat of his family. Protecting her came first, despite everything, despite her maybe, probably, certainly hating him, and he wasn't strong enough to do that. Not yet. Not quite yet. Not without his father's power.

The only thing he could do was to leave, and disappear from her life forever.

***

"Wait, so you just left her?! Just like that?!" Nero asked, shaking in disbelief. He studied Vergil's face carefully, only found cold eyes staring at nothing. Vergil had made sure not to tell him anything about his feelings from back then, although Nero was smarter than people thought he was, and he had guessed just from the tightness in his father's voice that he had truly loved Anna. Still. He couldn't believe his father had just...

... run away.

 _'I had to keep an eye on your old man, make sure he wouldn't run away_ again _.'_

So Dante knew. Dante knew about this, probably from Vergil himself, or maybe because he was more observant than most people thought he was, what with his goofy and carefree personality. And Dante had gone to the Underworld with Vergil- for what? What would Vergil run away from this time?

The answer was obvious.

Him. Nero. Was Vergil somehow... afraid? Afraid that he couldn't be a proper father, after everything that had happened? Well, he was probably right, but he owed Nero. He owed him a lot. He couldn't just run away from that. Dante knew that, and he had made sure that Vergil wouldn't just go and imprison himself in Hell forever. Vergil was the one wielding the Yamato. He could open and close portals, especially to and from places like Fortuna. But he wouldn't have done it without Dante nagging him about it, that was something Nero was growing certain of.

He'd need to thank Dante later.

For now, Nero was mostly struggling with other emotions, other thoughts. It made no sense to him. Staying to protect his beloved was way more logical than leaving, wasn't it? But he wasn't Vergil, and Vergil wasn't him. They were father and son.

There was one question now that had really been left unanswered. Now he had the story of one side of his family. But his mother? He had never known her. He had just been found at the front door of the orphanage in a black blanket, which was where his name came from. No note, no name, no nothing. Had he really been abandoned by her? Growing up with no family, was it because his mother had refused remembering about Vergil? Maybe... maybe his father knew. Maybe he knew, despite years spent in the Underworld. So Nero asked. Vergil's cold eyes flashed instantly with... pain.

"No, she would never do that. Don't be ridiculous." But there was now doubt in his eyes.

Maybe she had really hated Vergil at the end, after seeing his true nature. Maybe she had really refused to remember. Maybe she had really denied Nero's existence right after his birth.

Of course he felt hurt by that thought. But he hadn't known her. Vergil had. And Nero supposed that it was probably a terrible thing to think that the one woman you had ever loved truly had thrown away the one proof of your fleeting presence in her life. He could empathize with his father. No forgiveness, not yet, but understanding.

His thoughts were interrupted by Vergil getting up, the Yamato firmly gripped into his hand. The older man started walking out of the kitchen, but he paused right before leaving, turning his head slightly. Nero had a flashback of that moment when Vergil had left through a portal, right after becoming whole again, and right before Dante had told the younger Devil Hunter that Vergil was his father.

"Take good care of her, Nero."

Nero bristled at that, getting up.

"I'm gonna do what you were too much of a coward to do. I'll protect her!"

Vergil turned his face away, making sure Nero couldn't see his face anymore as he walked out of the kitchen, and then out of the house. He had been a terrible lover and a terrible father. Before all of that, a terrible brother. But before he could fully head out of there and disappear from everyone's life, Dante showed up, shirtless with a towel around his shoulders, having just come out of the shower.

"Hey, Vergil! I told you that your portal-opening days are over, and that includes portals to run away like a scared little girl! Give me the Yamato before your dumb ass manages to get it to break again."

This again. Vergil gripped his beloved sword tighter. He was about to retort something when he heard Nero's voice too.

"Running away from me, this time?"

He could hear the cockiness. So similar to Dante's. It slapped something into place inside of him, and he breathed deeply, calm once again, face schooled into a neutral expression. The Yamato was out of its sheath before anyone could react, and Vergil slowly turned to face his son.

"Perhaps I should have indeed been more present in your life. It looks like you could use being taught some respect, _son_."

Nero grinned, his demonic arms materializing. He was at peace too, more than before. He had probably been abandoned by his mother and he had eventually gotten his arm ripped off by his father, but despite everything he was just glad that Vergil wasn't trying to run away again. Forgiveness wasn't there yet. But it could happen, maybe, with time, a lot of it. Time they had, as long as his father wasn't disappearing. Nero breathed deeply and grabbed the Red Queen, planting the tip into the ground in front of him and revving the handle for some Exceed excellence.

"I'm gonna be the one teaching you a lesson again, _father_."

"Ah, family bonding time. I'll go get some pizza in the meantime," Dante huffed happily as he stood to the side with a relaxed grin. He wouldn't interfere with that, remembering too well the ultimate power of Nero's bitch slap. "Oh and, Vergil? I know you keep saying I suck at counting-"  
"Don't say it, little brother-"  
"- but you really shouldn't try to cut Nero's arms. Y'see, mathematically speaking, you can't divide by Nero. With him, half of two is four."

Dante avoided the blue spectral swords that flew in his direction, and calmly went back inside with a satisfied grin while Nero's motorized sword roared, flying towards Vergil. Time to let those two get some much needed father-and-son time.

**Author's Note:**

> The dreams Vergil had were Fate's way to force him into eventually conceiving Nero so that he wouldn't die later. Vergil himself doesn't know that, so there was no place to write about it. But now you guys know!


End file.
